Burdened with Glorious Purpose
by lost2darkness
Summary: Exploration into Loki's psyche and interaction with an unfortunate human woman. Takes a look at the motivations for Loki's anger, cruelty reflected through these interactions. Loki x OC. Oneshot.


**Burdened with Glorious Purpose**

For those of you who (like me) are fond of Loki, and wanted to find a portrait of his crazy, erratic and insecure character taking advantage of his power this may be a fic you'll enjoy. I have removed or modified a lot of the more graphic content from this to comply with ffnet requirements, but if someone is offended people contact me privately so the story can be modified and not removed without the ability for me to fix it.

Disclaimer: yadda yadda I don't own Avengers or Marvel but Loki as a character should be beyond copyright by now anyways

TW: rape, violence, airway restriction  
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No, he hadn't always been this way. Cruelty wasn't born with him – at least he had thought so. He had believed himself something else though, deceived by his adopted family. That secret now brought to light, that he was the evil one, seemed to release some part of himself that he had not allowed to roam free. No longer simply the fool or the mischief-maker. He was not just an amusement.

He was better than that.

He wore a mask of veiled amusement, as he toyed with the handle of his scepter. The thought came to him as he realized how human this action was, and he ceased immediately, the small upturn of his mouth diminished slightly. He was not like the inhabitants of Midgard. Neither was he one of the Asgardians or the Jotuns. He was something else altogether, and, he convinced himself, with the potential to be more powerful than any of these.

Hiding on Midgard, in the tunnels beneath the great city, he kept close watch on the construction of the tesseract and its device. Enough bodies had been recruited now, he could remain overall aloof, and simply observing the project. In the days before his moment or glory, he'd found his divine appetite awakened, as always before a battle. His minions had been told to leave him for a time. He knew they would do as he bid, especially with Barton at the entrance to his more private chamber.

His gaze fell onto his captive, who had shrunk against the wall of the dingy chamber. He had not invaded her mind, wanting to witness the lovely range of emotions she was certain to express. The dim light did not do well in exposing her features – but he could tell they were less humble than that of the ordinary human.

He took a step toward her, and she shuddered visibly, as if feeling the full effect of his gaze.

"Kneel." He pointed directly in front of himself, and watched as she scrambled, somewhat awkwardly, to meet his demand with handcuffs still around her wrists. She practically groveled and his smirk became a sneer. She was no Asgardian lady, but she would to suffice.

"Look at me." He instructed. She lifted her head, slowly, but averted her gaze so as to avoid looking him in the eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

She shook her head, causing her hair to fall about and realign itself.

"I am a god, and it is my intent to rule you and every other human in very short time. If you are memorable, I may grant you some privilege."

He could suddenly sense her confusion – and realized that she did not believe him, but simply was too afraid to speak. The doubt angered him, and he slapped her across the face. He was not weak. He was not like these humans. "You will come to believe you. Yes, you will."

"I'm sorry, I believe you!" She shouted suddenly, shielding herself.

"I am the Master of Lies!" He scowled. "You really think that I would so easily be deceived?"

He grasped a fistful of hair, dragging upward and she whimpered, making his expression soften, but only a touch. A part of him began to question his actions and motivation – but another, now invigorated and eager, saw the quivering creature and became excited at the anticipation of the girl's revulsion. The aggression won out.

With a whispering-quick motion of his hand, the chains that bound her simply disappeared. Her eyes widened in shock, and he could sense her trepidation growing as she began to see him for what he really was. His touch, surprisingly gentle, trailed her features, while the other hand maintained a tight hold on her hair, the dark tresses falling between his fingers. He trailed down the front of her body, the clothing slowly peeling away at this presence, causing her to revert to a protected position, which she kept even as he pulled at her hair more forcefully. He realized then, she would subconciously resist, and he relished at the thought of breaking her.

"Your fear is so much more satisfying than your doubt." He hissed, bringing his lips up next to her ear. "And I anticipate that you will have more of that before I'm through with you."

He released her suddenly, and she fell to her knees directly in front of him. He shrugged off his outer coat, letting it fall to the ground. She reached toward his waist, her hands shaking, unsure what to do. He roughly grasped both of her wrists, and pulled her up to standing, toward him. He scowled, "Don't waste your time."

He was suddenly near nude, and lifted her easily, despite her protestations, bringing her down against his cock so that she could feel his body, warm and ethereal, against her and the bulging organ against her thigh. He shoved her down along the line of his body. She gasped, her breath caught in her throat. In one motion, he shoved himself entirely inside her, causing her to release an unbidden, loud sound. He bit into the side of her neck, with the force enough to draw blood, the sweet-metallic sheen pooling onto his tongue made his own body quiver.

He slammed her body against the wall, thrusting with abandon, as she made high pitched and uneven sounds, a mix of pain and pleasure. Unrelenting, he brought one hand to her throat, and held it there, taunting, tightening his grip ever so slowly. She began to grab his hand, prying at it, clawing at it as it constricted. Her expression displayed panic and her noises guttural, stunted. Her eyes finally met his, no longer evading his gaze. The muddy human eyes could almost have been called beautiful with her poignant expression that clearly spelled out her desperation. She tried to say something, perhaps a choked out "please" but it was too disrupted to be clear. Her eyes began to flutter, but before she closed them completely, he suddenly released her and pulled away, causing her to fall in a heap.

She clutched her throat, gasping. He fell upon her shortly, now taking her from behind, relentless. She stumbled, even on all fours, such that he pulled her up by her hair, using it as leverage. He watched as her hands clawed at the hard floor of the cavern, struggling to support her weight. As she collapsed, he flipped her over onto her back, causing her entire body to balk. She was starting to respond in other ways now – he could see her trying to meet him as he ground against her, and slowly her tremulous voice echoed in a different tone. He heard her elicit exaltation toward some deity. That the deity was not him sparked the little rage he maintained, and he slapped her again.

"You will worship ME." he insiste. She tried to nod in assent, but through her head back as he kept moving against her.

Her compliance eased his pride, and he recalled his duties. It was, he thought, distantly, for the best that humans cannot sustain for as long as he could – he had places to be, and could not spend the days it would take to fully enjoy an Asgardian. She began to lose the ability to respond adequately, and he continued on, but more rapidly than before.

He finished, making sure she knew. She trembled as he stood, and did as she was bid, before watching him stand, and dress himself as if by magic. She found a coat or blanket around her shoulders, suddenly, and watched him leave.

The King of Midgard retrieved his scepter, and didn't look back. The small part of him that wished to was too ashamed to do so. The rest of him, the dominant face, looked forward. Tonight the battle would begin – the trap would be put into action. And the rest of humanity would fall to their knees and kneel as well.


End file.
